


They Will Come, They Will Go

by Zeath



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cancer, Chronic Illness, Crying, Depressing, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Lung Cancer, NSFW, Sad Ending, Scott Needs A Hug, Terminal Illnesses, Vomiting, Wheelchairs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 13:39:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17602397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeath/pseuds/Zeath
Summary: They all knew she was riddled with cancer, lit up like New York after dark as she was put through the PET scan. It was in her lungs, her liver, kidneys, her hips and shoulders, and everything in between.





	They Will Come, They Will Go

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the song Not About Angels by Birdy, because I had the song on repeat while writing this. Enjoy the sadness.

They all knew she was riddled with cancer, lit up like New York after dark as she was put through the PET scan. It was in her lungs, her liver, kidneys, her hips and shoulders, and everything in between. The doctor didn’t even give her a date, but started talking to Chris and Victoria about everything the hospital could do to prolong her life.

Allison zoned out after that, letting her parents deal with the details. She was dying, that was enough information for her to know.

Instead, she picked up her phone from her lap and texted Scott a smiley emoji, and huffed out a laugh when immediately he texted back with an emoji sticking its tongue out. He didn’t know yet, didn’t need to know yet that she was dying, though he knew she had _some_ variation of cancer. She didn’t want to ruin that last good day for him, and so she let Scott think she would be fine. Just for one more day.

They let her out of the hospital closer to eleven at night after running some more tests and pumping her with medication. She wasn’t allowed to walk on her own, the tumors in her lungs didn’t allow her to suck in as much air as she was used to but after living like she had an elephant standing on her chest for over two months, Allison was used to it. Chris wheeled her out of the hospital and lifted her into the car, Victoria settling in the driver’s seat while Chris stayed in the back with his daughter and held her hand the whole ride home. Allison was numb to the news at the moment, but when she tightened her grip on her father’s hand, Chris murmured that everything was going to be okay.

She believed him.

Just for now, she believed him.

 

\--

 

Telling Scott was something she had to do, but that didn’t mean she wanted to. They sat on a bench after a short walk through the park; Allison had ignored the advice from her parents and continued to use her legs, gritting her teeth through the pain. They enjoyed the sounds of nature around them and Allison took Scott’s hand in hers, brushing her thumb over his. “I’m dying.”

“Wait, what?” Scott’s head snapped away from where he was watching the birds, to where Allison was trying to hold a brave face. The tears beginning to well up in her eyes gave her away though, and he tightened his hold on her hand, trying to find words to explain the world crumbling around him. “But, I – you –.”

“It’s everywhere.” She simply said, breathing out and sniffing wetly, shaking her head as Scott tried to wrap his mind around what was happening right now. He didn’t understand what she was saying – he did, she had said it quite clearly, but it didn’t compute. Didn’t make sense. This was _Allison_. The love of his _life_. The _only_ love of his life. He didn’t know what to say as his own tears fell down his cheeks, throat hitching into a sob. Allison exhaled shakily and swallowed before turning to Scott. “I’m sorry.”

Scott turned his whole body towards Allison, flabbergasted that she would even try to say sorry about having cancer. “ _God_ don’t – don’t _apologize_ … You’ve nothing to be sorry for –.”

“It’s my body –.” She tried to argue.

“ _Stop_.” Scott took her cheeks in his hands, not caring if his face was embarrassingly blotchy from crying. He leaned in, pecking his lips to hers and resting their foreheads together to simply breathe. Allison didn’t have to heart to move, sniffing and clutching Scott’s shirt and she closed her eyes. “Does it hurt?”

She thought about lying, about pretending everything would remain the same but she then thought about how much agony she was in just walking from the carpark to the bench and having to go all the way _back_ to the car. She swallowed her pride, and nod her head against Scott’s. “To walk, yes.”

“ _God_ , Ally…” Scott pulled his head away to gently pat her arms down. He squeezed her wrists and she opened her eyes to look at his face, severely unattractive when he cries but he wasn’t afraid to show everything to her. It was one of the many reasons why she loved him so much. Another was the fact that he wasn’t the type of person who would suddenly change how he treated her; he was always gentle with her but she knew he wouldn’t treat her like fine china now that she told him she was dying. Instead, he stood up and set his hands on his hips, puffing his chest out so she would giggle. “I’ll be your mighty steed. Hop on.”

With that, he held his arms out and she stood up now allowing herself to let the emotionless wall crumble to show how uncomfortable she was at putting weight on her hips. She held onto his neck as he bent down to scoop her up bridal style, kissing her nose and carrying her back to the car. He let set her down at the passenger side door and let her climb in by herself as he went around to the driver’s side. He pulled out of the park and slid his hand into Allison’s once they were on the road, humming along with the music softly playing on the radio.

Through Scott tried to normalize the whole ordeal, the whole drive home he never let go of Allison’s hand. She didn’t want him to.

 

\--

 

Allison was put on intense chemotherapy almost immediately. Though her parents were the ones that dropped her off, Scott was always there to collect her and wheel her into the hospital. They would sit together while she was injected and fed the chemo, and Stiles would come in after his shift to join in on the banter. The three of them would play card games together, or simply talk about their day.

Allison couldn’t say that her days were especially riveting; she got up, was fed a healthy meal by her mother, sat in front of the television and watched reruns of soap operas that were well and truly overplayed, had a healthy lunch. She used to study, but after figuring out that she was dying, she gave up with the thought of doing math. She would then have a healthy dinner with her parents and go to bed early from the exhaustion of trying to breathe through the tumors all day. Wake up, and do it all again.

Without Scott breaking her routine, she would simply wither away at the boring life she was living. A part of her was thankful that she now had chemo to add to her weekly routine where she didn’t have her mother’s overbearing eyes watching her every move just in case she stopped breathing or something dramatic. No, instead, Stiles would go to the vending machine and feeding a ten-dollar bill to it, carrying an armful of sugary and salty goods with him. They would pig out while Allison was getting drugged up, and though she was starting to lose her appetite, she stuffed her face.

After the chemotherapy bag was empty, the nurses would take it away and discharge her for the day, letting Scott wheel her back out to where he knew Victoria and Chris were waiting for their daughter. He bid them adieu and kissed Allison’s cheek, watching the way Chris picked her up and helped her into the car before placing the wheelchair in the trunk.

They drove away leaving Scott at the entrance every time, and Allison would always turn and wave through the back of the car, giggling when his face lit up and waved manically back at her.

 

\--

 

There were good days; like when she got to go outside with Scott and Stiles and simply be a teenager. Sitting on a picnic blanket while she watched the two boys fight over the last peanut butter cup. She would sip the fizzy out of a plastic cup and lay down on the blanket, watching the clouds above glide by. Soon enough the boys would snuggle up to each other her sides, Stiles obviously the victor because no one could defeat him when Reese’s were on the line.

Then there were bad days, like tonight, after she had offered to go to the store to buy some ice cream since she had a craving. She ended up vomiting around the side of the building, some orangey yellow concoction that didn’t look healthy at all, pulling out her phone and speed dialling Scott who answered on the second ring. He muttered a sleepy hello, and she broke out into a sob. “Scott. I _can’t_. Help me, I’m at the supermarket.”

She slid down the wall and narrowly avoided her puddle of gunk as she heard Scott shuffling around and cursing on the line, telling her to _stay with me baby, I’ll be there in ten minutes tops, no, five, five minutes, stay on the phone with me, keep talking –_

Allison had let the phone drop onto the concrete as she gagged out another mouthful of vomit, turning over before it choked her. She could hear Scott shouting at her through the phone, and maybe she should have called her parents first but it had been ages since they trusted her to go out alone even for something as simple as a fucking ice cream run. She cried into the brick as pain wracked her body, harsh lung rattling sobs that shook her whole body.

Scott was in front of her then, cupping her cheeks and trying to get her to respond to him before his phone was against his ear again, calling for an ambulance. “Stay with me Allison, come on baby, I’m right here, I’m not leaving you.”

Soon enough there were flashing lights and men picking her up and hauling her on the stretcher and rushing her into the ambulance, the harsh overhead light blaring down at her as Scott hopped into the back with her. Allison groaned in agony, as Scott tried to keep his cool enough that he could ramble off all the medication she was taking. Before long though her boyfriend was in her line of sight and smiled down at her, petting her head and brushing her fringe away from her sweating forehead.

She croaked at him, trying to reach up but the paramedic held her arm down to pump some fluids into her. Scott reached down to hold her hand instead, kissing Allison’s forehead and humming a soft tune that she didn’t recognise. It didn’t matter right now, she needed a distraction, this was enough for her right now.

Her parents were already at the hospital when she was wheeled in – how they got there before she did was questioning, but she gathered they broke a couple of laws getting there – and soon enough she was checked into a room.

Scott sat in the waiting room all night, and most of the morning before Chris came out and sat with him. The man looked exhausted, and Scott probably wasn’t fairing any better. There were more pressing concerns right now though, like was his girlfriend going to make it, was this a one off or was this something more serious. “How is she?”

“She’s a fighter, but…” Chris sighed and his shoulders slumped, hand coming up to rub the sleep from his eyes. He was tired, both physically and emotionally. The thought of his little girl strapped up to a monitor and having all kinds of medicine injected into her, IV lines and mouth tubes and oxygen masks. It was all too much. “Her body is failing, chemo’s not working. They’re stopping it before it takes her completely.”

Scott broke down, nodding his head in understanding but already beginning to cry. Chris didn’t need this right now but the teenager couldn’t stop it, because Allison was _dying_. She had said it to him before but that was a month ago, and she had been getting better, at least she appeared to be. His daughter was dying, but she still meant everything to Scott, the world would become black and white without her colourful smile brightening it up.

They kept her in the hospital for two days to get everything out of her system so she wouldn’t have a further reaction to the chemo. They had asked Allison to stay in the chair permanently now, and provided her with an oxygen mask for when she felt out of breath. Scott didn’t care about all of that, standing at the porch and waving at her erratically as car door opened up. Chris hurried out to help his daughter into the chair, while Victoria collected the overnight bag that they had acquired earlier from the trunk. When they got closer to the porch, Scott bent down to give her a kiss in greeting. Allison looked exhausted and she hadn’t showered properly for almost three days, but she was still as beautiful as ever.

She slapped him for saying that out loud.

Then hugged him when he lifted a grocery bag with her favorite tub of ice cream inside.

 

\--

 

Allison woke up with a tightening in her chest, gasping awake and clutching at her chest, reaching over to where her oxygen mask was on her bedside table. She cupped the mask to her face as she wheezed for air, turning the tank on and trying to suck lungful after lungful of oxygen into her. It wasn’t working, coughing as she shouted for her mother. It came out more like a hacking choke instead but it was enough that Chris could hear her calls from down the hallway.

Soon enough her parents ran into the bedroom, Victoria getting on the bed and trying to get her to copy as they go through the breathing exercises the doctor told them to go over before they rang an ambulance. Chris was one step ahead and launched for the phone, calling for one while Allison grabbed her mother’s shoulders like she was trying to seek out any air she could find. There was no air in the room, she couldn’t suck any up, no matter how many times Allison gasped and gasped and _gasped_. The oxygen mask, while working minutely, wasn’t helping her lungs expand enough for her to relax.

Chris heard the sirens coming faintly and needed to move Allison downstairs so the paramedics to help her breathe. The wheelchair would only slow them down, and so Chris scooped up his daughter, so light in her arms, and practically ran down the stairs with her as she clung to him red faced. He busted the front door open and ran out onto the driveway, ignoring the rocks digging into the soles of his feet as he ran to the road with Allison, shouting for the ambulance. By the time Victoria had made her way down the stairs and was standing in the doorway, the paramedics had already stopped the ambulance and Chris didn’t bother to waste time put out a stretcher. He ran around the back and when they opened it up, he hauled himself and his daughter into the back, laying her on the stretcher. “She can’t breathe, the oxygen isn’t working, she can’t _breathe_.”

Victoria had been smart enough to grab her purse, Chris’ slippers and phone before she ran out of the house and to the ambulance, getting in with some help from her husband and sat by Allison, taking her hand and squeezing it. The paramedic shut the door and called out for the driver to step on it as he began to use a resuscitator in order to regulate some of Allison’s breathing and fill out her lungs forcefully.

By the time they were at the hospital and the ambulance doors were swung open, Allison was being regulated by the paramedic, who had to manoeuvre himself like a contortionist in order to get the stretcher out and run with the nurses and emergency doctor. There was a lot of noise, plenty of people talking over each other but at the same time hearing everyone’s talking.

Allison doesn’t remember much, having lost consciousness from the lack of air. She had woken up with blaring lights in her eyes, and multiple people in masks hovering over here asking her way too many questions. She was scared, she wanted her mother, her father, she wanted Scott.

She had blacked out again, and when she came too once more, she was in a quiet room with her parents sitting next to her bed. They were relieved to see her awake, Victoria wiping tears from her eyes as Chris took his daughter’s hand and kissing it gently. They explained that her mask didn’t work because there was too much fluid in her lungs, and that she was in the intensive care unit. The tumor that was swallowing up her right lung had expanded, leaving her breathless with the minimal space and a permanent oxygen cannula making her nose cold.

They didn’t want her to leave the hospital until they could regulate her breathing properly, and make sure she wasn’t going to wake up to the same trauma again. Allison was just glad she was waking up at all.

 

\--

 

Scott visited her in the ICU, Chris having called him in the middle of the night telling him that Allison had been rushed to hospital. He sounded stressed and too emotion for Scott to even comprehend, and for a moment he thought that was it, his girlfriend’s time was up. He had broken many laws to get to the hospital, but he didn’t care because when he came in and spotted Victoria in her pajamas in the waiting room, upset but not bawling in grief, Scott took a moment to thank whoever was out there that it meant Allison was still fighting.

He was right, after talking to Allison’s mother and getting the rundown on what had happened. He had asked to see her, and was granted permission but only after they had seen her first and got everything under control. Reasonable.

It took three hours until Chris came down to the waiting room and let him in, saying they were going to retrieve the overnight bag from their house considering Allison would be staying here for who knows how long this time. Allison was so sickly looking in the oversized bed, and Scott couldn’t help but crawl up onto the mattress, curling up against his girlfriend and kissing her head when she wrapped her arms around his neck. He could hear her wheezing breaths against his ear, but murmured that he was here, he wouldn’t leave her. She sniffed wetly and whispered weakly but enough that Scott could hear her. “I thought I was going to die. That I wouldn’t get to see you before I…”

“I wouldn’t let you go without saying goodbye.” It hurt to say, but they had agreed that the two of them wouldn’t beat around the bush and play nice with Allison’s cancer. It sounded harsh, but Scott had become ready to face the facts that his girlfriend was going to die, and soon, and he was just happy to take as much time as he could get with her. Allison was obviously exhausted, falling into a fitful sleep soon after Scott had crawled into her bed, but he didn’t mind, listening to her lungs overworking themselves.

It hurt how much she was fighting to stay alive, but that’s what she was, what she will always be. She fought hard and the doctors were surprised she was still alive with the tumors wracking terror in her body. She was running on borrowed time. Everyone knew it, and they held their breath waiting for the other shoe to drop. Scott pressed his lips to her temple, a tear sliding down his cheek as he whispered to Allison’s sleeping figure. “You can let go.”

 

\--

 

Allison died five days later, surrounded by her parents and Scott, who had refused to leave her bedside since the moment he stepped into the hospital almost a week ago.

Her lungs had completely given up on her on the third day, wheezing with every heave until they finally had to give her mechanical support. No matter the amount of help the hospital could provide, it would only be to make her more comfortable. Allison wasn’t able to talk, but gave her affection through holding her mother’s hand, and lightly nudging her father’s arm with her foot.

Scott had climbed into the bed again on the fourth day, petting her hair and telling her how much he loved her, how he was so proud he was that she fought so hard. But if she was tired of fighting, she could let go, it was _okay_. He wouldn’t be angry, he wouldn’t blame her, she wasn’t weak. “You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met and I love you so much.”

On the fifth day, not even the machine could help her with the amount of fluid in her lungs. She was drowning, and Allison cried when her eyes darted over to her loved ones who watched on with despair unable to do anything to help her besides hold onto her. There was a sense of peace though, through the gurgling of her wet breaths until there was nothing left to give. Her body going limp and the monitor beeping manically to show there wasn’t a pulse. The nurses hurrying in with the doctor close behind.

Scott clung to Allison’s lifeless hand, sobbing but agreeing with Chris when he tells the nurses that it was okay, let her go, she wanted to go. His brave little girl had enough.

They didn’t try to resuscitate, they agreed to Chris’ wishes and unclasped the support from Allison’s mouth, calling time of death at five thirty seven in the afternoon. Victoria leant over her daughter, kissing her forehead and saying her final goodbye, Chris doing the same when she pulled back and wiped her eyes. Scott laced his fingers through Allison’s, watching her face and memorizing all of her imperfections, as if he hadn’t already burnt the image into his mind.

He kissed her knuckles, closing his eyes and imagining Allison looking down on him from wherever she may be, knowing she was finally free from the pain and felt at peace, and sighed a breath of relief for her.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Make sure to give a kudos, subscribe for more, and comment berating me on how depressing this was


End file.
